


Life Still Goes On

by Maxil_Gal



Series: Break Free [2]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Christmas Angst, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Smut, Comfort/Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, HIV/AIDS, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Live Aid, Meeting Your Idols, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss, Panic Attacks, Period-Typical Homophobia, Rogerina - Freeform, Rogerina Smut, but somehow our heroines do it, lesbians in love, the 1980s were a bitch of a time to be gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-09-23 04:22:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 14,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17073392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maxil_Gal/pseuds/Maxil_Gal
Summary: Rogerina and Reader enter a new stage of their life, adulthood (kind of).Basically a set of one-shot type things that act as a sequel to my previous fic, God Knows.





	1. It's Christmas Time, There's No Need to Be Afraid

“Darling. Darling are you awake yet?” You groan and roll onto your stomach, shoving your tired face into the pillow.  
“Take a wild guess, Rogerina.”  
“Come on, sweetheart! It’s time to wake up!” Rogerina shook you violently, forcing you to pop your head up from the pillow.  
“Jesus Christ, Rogerina!”  
“Exactly my point! Come on, come on! We have so much work to do.” You fumbled for your glasses wildly, almost swiping your alarm clock off the bedside table. “Come on! Usually your dragging me out of bed.”  
You balanced your specs on your face and blinked awake. Rogerina was now standing beside your side of your too small bed, fully dressed to the 10s as per usual. Her hands were placed on her hips like a mother trying to get her teenage son out of bed.  
“Alright, alright I’m up. You’d think it was actually Christmas the way you jumped on me.” You rubbed your eyes as you stood, shivering at the cold as you flipped the covers off your body. You stumbled to the bathroom, brushed your mess of hair and brushed your teeth, humming quietly to yourself. Rogerina was touching up her makeup in the mirror as you finished with a hearty spit into the sink. Ahh, domestic bliss.  
“We need to go pick up mum’s and the Madame’s presents, oh and then they need us to deliver cookie baskets from the church. We can pick up our wreath then too. FUCK!” You jumped at Rog’s sudden expletive as you drug your jeans onto your legs. “Darling! The Christmas tree.”  
“Oh god, Rog.”  
“What? You don’t sound excited to get our wonderful tree.” You sighed and pulled your leg through, giving a little hop as you fastened the button and zipper. “Darling, it’s going to be our first Christmas together. Aren’t you excited?” You felt your stomach drop slightly. It wasn’t you weren’t happy about spending time with Rogerina, but ever since your mother had thrown you out, you’d just lost the magic of holidays.  
“Yeah. Just a little under the weather, Rog.” Her face flashed with worry as she put a hand to your head.  
“Oh, I hope you aren’t getting what I had.”  
“No no. Just one of those days, Rog.” You smiled and gave her a small peck on the cheek before moving to your drawer full of jumpers. She smoothly slid up behind you, wrapping her arms around your bare torso.  
“Merry Christmas, baby.” You couldn’t help but smile. Rog always made a gloomy day better. You picked your favorite, a dark red sweatshirt, and your thickest pair of wooly socks to keep your toes warm in the cold. Madame was in her usual seat, reading the newspaper with the tv on in the background.  
“Good morning, Madame.”  
“Good morning. Going out with Rogerina?”  
“Yes. We’re going to deliver those cookie baskets Brianne so kindly volunteered us for.” You smiled and worked at getting your boots on in the doorway. “Need anything while we’re out?”  
“Yes, if you see Ms. Humbert, give her a stiff kick in the knee. Her rat of a dog got into our shed and made a mess.”  
“I don’t think I’m quite allowed to assault old ladies, Madame, but I’ll sweep up when I get back.”  
“Rogerina, I don’t know what miracle occured for you to find this fine young lady, but I’m glad you had enough of a head on your shoulders to keep her around.” You blushed as Rogerina entered the living room, wearing her long coat dress with her fur hat and mittens. She rolled her eyes and handed you your heavy coat, a leather jacket lined with wool.  
“Yes yes, thank you Madame. Come on, before my mother gets in on this lovefest.” You gave a bashful goodbye as Rogerina pushed you out of the house and into the cold street. You looked up at the darkening clouds above the two of you.  
“Think it’s going to snow?” Rogerina had begun wrapping her bright red wool scarf around your neck, muttering something about you never wearing enough layers.  
“Nah. Pretty sure it’s going to be a Green Christmas, Rog.” She grabbed your hand and you blushed, trying to hide your shyness in the great big scarf she had wrapped around your head. You walked together, Rogerina talking about the latest scandal from the tabloids, your hands shoved deep into your pockets to keep them warm.  
You stopped mid step in front of a newstand at the busy corner of the neighborhood. Your eyes were hyperfocused on one tabloid article.  
Freddie Mercury and His Lovers: Is the Rock superstar a homosexual?  
“Come on, come on Y/N.” You let yourself be pulled away, not looking anywhere but your feet.  
“I hate this fucking world,” you muttered.  
“It’ll get better, sweetheart...I promise.”  
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep Rog,” you mumbled, hurriedly wiping away a stray tear as you hurried your pace. You walked further in silence, before Rogerina broke it, as usual.  
“Do you think he is?”  
“Him? Oh absolutely. I just hate how they talk about it...you know? Like he’s...like he’s sick or something…” You couldn’t meet her eyes.  
“He’s not sick, darling. None of us are.”  
“How do you know…” You turned suddenly to her, stopping both of your progresses. “We don’t know what it is, Rog. How it gets you…” Your shoulders sagged dejectedly. Your friend, Lennie. He had died a month before. He’d only realized when that damn purple spot showed up. Now his partner, Greg, had one. They didn’t think he was going to last past Christmas. “I’m sorry...I didn’t mean to snap.”  
“It’s ok darling. Come on, before Mrs. Baxter blows a fuse.” You nodded and tried to put on a happy, Christmas-y face for your mother-in-law’s church friends.  
“OH! Rogerina and...Rogerina’s friend!” You just nodded awkwardly to yourself and let Rog talk. “Now here, take these. You both have Ducky’s Lane. Pass them out to all the neighborhood.”  
“Rogerina, dear. When are you going to get married?” You felt your body freeze a second as you took the basket full of wrapped cookies. Rog just smiled cooly and shook her head.  
“Why, Mrs. Digby, I’m a modern woman! I don’t have time for marriage.”  
“Oh, these modern girls and their independence. What about your friend? Is she married?” You slowly shook your head, trying to feign rueful indignance at the universe.  
“No no. I’m not the marrying type either.”  
“Why, dears, you’ll be spinsters by the time you find a man!” Rog smiled and nodded to Mrs. Digby playfully.  
“Don’t worry, we’ll keep our eyes out, Miriam.” You both gave them a Merry Christmas and a goodbye before returning to the cold gray morning.  
“God I wanted to throw you into the limelight and say ‘Here she is! The Love of My Life has arrived, Miriam Digby!’.” You cackled as she extravagantly threw her arms out.  
“Modern woman. Good line. Mind if I steal that?”  
“Go ahead. I am pretty sure every lesbian has used it at one point or another.” You smiled and took her arm in yours, trying to look as platonic as possible. By the time you made it to Ducky’s Lane, your hand was frozen stiff from the frigid wind. “Dear lord, I told you your hands were going to freeze.”  
“I’m fine, Rog. Really. Here. I’ll go left, you go right. We’ll meet at the end of the cul-de-sac.” She nodded and you both went along, giving your small bags of cookies to the neighbors with a hearty Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. After that, a quick walk back to the church to drop the baskets off and pick up a wreath. Rogerina ran off ahead of you to pick up the presents and you couldn’t help but notice a third, sneakily hidden package under her arm.  
“No peeking! Or you’ll get coal.”  
“Ok, ok.” You smiled and pretended to eye the weather as you walked. “Nah it’s not going to snow.”

It did not snow, but that only made the following days more heavy with the threat of it. Brianne had paid some neighborhood boys to put up a small tree in the living room, leaving you two to rest inside in the warmth of the house. You were reading ‘A Christmas Carol’ to get into the mood when Rogerina asked you the question.  
“Why don’t you like, Christmas, darling?”  
“What do you mean? I like Christmas as much as anyone.” You put your book down. Rogerina was in a pair of sweatpants and a long sleeve shirt she had ‘borrowed’ from you (you always thought it was quite unfair how she could wear all your clothes but you could wear none of hers; then again you were living in her house so…).  
“Come on, darling. I can tell you’ve been forcing a happy face for me. Please.” You sighed and brought your knees up to your chin.  
“It’s not Christmas itself it’s more so that...it’s been a hard year. It feels...off...celebrating.” Rogerina wrapped her arms around you and gave your cheek a soft little kiss.  
“Christmas is a time to celebrate despite the darkness, sweetheart. If we only celebrated when times were good...we’d never celebrate at all. We have to make our own good times or we’ll go mad.” She kissed your lips gently, her thumb teasing the back of your neck. You returned her embrace, slowly wrapping your arms around her as you both kissed. “Naughty girl. There isn’t even mistletoe.” You blushed and bit your bottom lip.  
“I think it’s worth the coal.” Rogerina smirked, pulling away  
“Later...later darling.”  
“You always say later,” you whined. Rogerina loved it when you became so submissive that you actually whined. It didn’t happen often, only when you were very sexually frustrated...which she did to you a lot.  
“How would mother feel if she walked in on what I do to you? Hmm?” She leaned in close. You felt her hot breath skate across your ear, making you shiver as she whispered to you. “You’re ass, bright red from where I hit you. Could you imagine? Her walking in on you, all defenseless and tied up for me like a little present. Oh you’d be so mortified.” She dragged her fingers, pushing a lock of hair behind your ear. “You like being embarrassed don’t you? You like feeling all small and helpless.” You nod slowly as she laced kisses down your jaw. “When we live in our own place...I’m going to make you scream my name. No more gags for such a noisy little girl like you. You’ll get to whimper and moan your heart’s content.” Her hand drifted lazily up your thigh. You squirmed slightly at her touch. “I’ll keep you like the little pet you are. A nice little collar around your neck, hmm?” You were both interrupted by Brianne shouting Rog’s name. You groaned slightly and fell backwards.  
“Yeah...our own place.”  
“Cheer up, darling. It’s Christmas...and I heard mum and the Madame are going to Edinburgh.”  
“Why are they going to Scotland?”  
“My grandpa...no...Roger’s up there. She always visits him on Christmas Eve.” You nod to slowly, eyeing the gold band on your finger. You had chosen the wedding band, as the engagement ring was much more glamorous and suited for Rogerina. “That means we get Christmas Eve to ourselves. I think it’s a wonderful present, don’t you?” She shook your arm playfully and bounded down the stairs, leaving you to try and make yourself not look like she had just been dirty talking to you.


	2. Mistletoe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas Eve Smut.

How Rogerina loved to tease you. It must have been at least three years since you first met, and yet she could get you so flustered. And how she loved to see your blushing cheeks and shy little smiles. They drove her crazy.  
Madame and Brianne had left early Christmas Eve morning. I managed to stave off Rog for a little, allowing me to get some chores done. I was in charge of Christmas dinner preparations while Brianne was gone, since you couldn’t trust Rogerina to cook an egg let alone get dinner for Christmas ready. Silverware was polished, wine was ready, the ham was prepared to be cooked, as well as the potato casserole.  
“Darling, it’s all going to be fine! Really. Come on. The kitchen is spotless dear.” You tapped your foot anxiously.  
“I’m missing something. I know I am Rog.” You scratched your head and adjusted your glasses. What was it? “All the presents are under the tree...the food is ready…”  
“Perhaps you haven’t finished decorating?” I shook my head.  
“No, you made sure of-” the sweetly innocent tone of her voice made me turn. She had that look on her face. The looky look. The look that said she was up to something. “Ok, Rog. Give up the game.” She laughed and pulled a sprig of mistletoe from behind her back. You rolled your eyes. “Come on, Rog. I’m being serious. I’m sure I’m missing something.” Rogerina took your hand and spun you into her.  
“It’s perfect darling. Now come on, I haven’t gotten a good fuck out of you in weeks.” She pressed her lips against yours, lifting your soul to the highest stretches of your being. You gently kissed back, running your hand through her blonde curls. She smiled and pulled you towards the stairs. “Let’s go, sweetheart. Aren’t you gonna give me my Christmas present?” Her baby blue eyes went through that shift you were acquainted with so well. It switched her from loving girlfriend to the Rogerina that was infamous at your school for eating boys alive. It made your knees quake and you followed dutifully to your room. “That’s a good girl.” Your spine tingled with anticipation as you watched her intently from your seat on the bed. “Now, be a good little pet and undress.” You nodded, gulping down your nerves as you pulled your jumper off and threw off your jeans.  
Rogerina climbed onto your lap, chuckling as color rushed to your face.  
“You’re so good to me, darling.” Her voice was a hoarse whisper as she took off your bra. Your nipples stiffened as they made contact with the cold air. You shivered gently.  
“Mmm. How hungry are you dear?”  
“Starving...You’ve kept me from you too long, darling...You won’t be able to walk for Christmas after I’m finished with you.” You whimpered as she drug her hands through your hair, tugging gently as she worked her way through. “Oh, you’re so beautiful.” You looked at her with the softest puppy eyes you could muster, biting your lip anxiously. Slowly, almost painfully, she pulled your underwear down to your ankles. She played with the soft fabric in her hands for a second before tossing them onto the floor. “There...all naked for me.” You shifted in your seat, becoming hotter by the second as Rogerina rubbed between your thighs sensually. “Oh kitten,” she purred, “what ever will I do with you?” You gulped, feeling the blood rush to your ears. Your hands gripped the sheets in anticipation.  
“Please, Rogerina...please fuck me.” Your voice was strained, wanting her so badly to use you, even abuse you, for that sweet rush of ecstasy. Rogerina smiled wickedly as she teased your opening.  
“Say it again.”  
“Oh god, please fuck me Rogerina. Please…” You voice was a whisper of desperation, embarrassment coloring your face pink. Your soft pleas were music to her ears and she slowly teased into you, working her fingers slowly inside you. You groaned and planted small kisses on her neck, breathing heavily into her beautiful pale skin. She wasn’t going to let you cum that easily, though. Rog pulled her now slick fingers out and licked them in front of you.  
“You’re so sweet, darling. Tonight...I’m going to rail you until you scream.” Her bra and underwear were tossed to the side with yours, and that familiar friend Rog loved to use was nestled between her thighs once again. It was rubbed with lube, slippery and slightly cold. Rog loved to use it because she loved seeing you cry in agonizing euphoria and it allowed for her to cum alongside you. “Keep your legs up for me darling.” You nodded and held them up obediently, shivering at the thought of how your sweet lady looked at you, lust and animalistic hunger in her eyes.  
She began slowly, pumping at a steady rhythm, letting your body adjust to the tight feeling in you. You could only respond to her questions with slightly teary nods or shakes, moaning at the feeling of her moving so expertly inside you. God she was so wonderful. She began moving faster, only slowing to rob you of orgasm like the tease she was.  
“Rogerina please!”  
“You cum when I do darling,” Rog whispered to you, grip tightening on your thigh. She kissed your neck, beginning to go fast again. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, you felt her quicken and become harder in her thrusts. Rog threw her head back, the low light catching the shimmer of her curls and let out a breathy moan. You were a puddle. A literal puddle. Rog pulled out from you and petted your cheek lovingly. “You did wonderful, darling.” You nodded, pulling closer into her chest, light kisses peppering her breasts. You only pulled apart to catch your breaths and clean each other slightly. Your kisses reached lower and lower and you began to kiss her inner thigh tenderly. Without saying a word, you shifted your body between her legs and moved your tongue over her beautiful, lovely and pink (like her), opening. Your tongue ran over her folds, delighted from the taste of her. You kissed it softly before rubbing her clit with your tongue, moving with her body as she rocked your head back and forth with her. She groaned your name over and over, tangling her fingers in your hair until she came for you. She was so sweet as you cleaned her, worshiping every detail of her body with your lips. You crawled back up to her, holding her in your arms and snuggling into her neck.  
“Merry Christmas, Rog.”  
“Merry Christmas, darling.”


	3. Take a Sad Song and Make It Better

You woke up in the afternoon. Rog had left your side and was smoking idly by the open window. The December air filled your bedroom, making you shiver and wrap the comforter around you. She looked over at you and gave a half smile, blowing a cloud of smoke into the outside world. She didn’t say anything, only turning back to resume.  
“Do you always do this after?” She smiled and put it out on the ceramic ashtray beside her before flicking it into the rainy alleyway below.  
“Sometimes…”  
“Do you need me to do more...I can still go, Rog, if you need me too.” She laughed and closed the window, shaking her head.  
“No, no darling.” She returned to your bed, and you wrapped her around in the comforter as well. The warmth of your bodies made a little tent of heat that kept you both warm and cozy. “Remember when we first met? You were such a cute little mouse…”  
“I remember...no friends, no social life, no...no significant others.” You wrapped the blanket tighter around your bodies, fixing cracks that let in slivers of ice cold air. Rog brushed a hand lightly across your cheek. “The opposite of you.”  
“Why’d you kiss me?” Your eyes went wide at the question. Their first kiss? She remembered it clearly. They’d been flirting, working on homework...it felt like lightning when you finally touched her.  
“Because you’re beautiful.”  
“But why? What do you see in me?” Your eyes furrowed in concern. Rogerina never spoke like this. “Why...why after I tried to fool myself I was straight...after shagging all those boys...why’d you stay?”  
“Almost didn’t,” you murmured quietly. You wrapped your arms around her body, biting your lip at the sensation of bare skin against skin. “Rogerina. You’re beautiful. Smart too, despite what our teachers though.” She laughed heartily. You felt her body shake from it. “You are so extraordinary. I can barely believe my life sometimes.” She smiled and kissed the top of your head, sending jolts of energy down your spine. You buried your face into her lovingly, nuzzling into her neck.  
“I don’t deserve you. You’re so full of love. Deep love. Real love. Not the superficial worshiping those boys had. If I lost everything...you’d still be here.”  
“Of course I would, Rog.” Another kissed graced your forehead, making you blush.  
“What if I was sick.” You pulled away and looked into her eyes. She was crying. “What if I couldn’t love you...what if I lost my beauty...what if I was dying in front of you.” You felt tears slip from your eyes silently. All you could do was cup her face and brush them from her face.  
“Rog. I would stay with you through the trials of Hell. I’d be there until you took your last breath. I’m not going to leave you alone.”  
“And you? What if you get sick.” You smiled ruefully and pressed your forehead against hers.  
“Don’t forget me. Go and love forever, but please never forget me.” She bent her head down and sobbed into your shoulder. You couldn’t utter any sounds. Your voice was choked from sheer sorrow as you held your lover, unable to protect her from the harsh cold world. “We’ll get out of this, darling.”   
“I’m scared of getting out, baby.” Your heart broke in two. “It seems so much safer to just...stay put.”  
“Rogerina Taylor. I’m not gonna let you stay put. You weren’t gonna let me get stuck, and I’m not gonna give up on you. We’re gonna live our life, ok? And we aren’t going to get married to people we don’t love. And we won’t be stuck regretting what we could have done. We’re going to regret what we DID do.” She laughed and you grinned wildly. You stood suddenly, breaking your tent of warmth. “We’ll get so fucked up, we won’t remember what we did! We’re going to live in Paris. You’re going to be the envy of all the ladies. I’ll be a famous writer.” You were jumping up and down now, Rogerina laughing hysterically. “We’ll walk arm in arm, and I’ll kiss you at the top of the fucking Eiffel Tower! Fuck it! I’ll kiss your beautiful face all around the fucking world, Taylor!” You dropped suddenly, facing Rog who was bright and shining with laughter and tears. “We’ll have 7 cats, one for each day of the week. Every day I’ll wake you up with sweet coffee and pastries. You’ll live the life you always wanted to, and so will I. And no one can fucking stop us.” She was in tears again, but happy this time.   
“Darling…”  
“Rog. You’ve given me a life I never thought I would ever even dream about. And this?” You tapped the wedding band on your finger. “This is the strongest bond in the universe as far as I’m concerned. Fuck the church. Fuck the government. Rogerina Taylor. You’re my wife, and I’m yours’...it’s been branded in the stars and nothing can break it.” You leaned down and kissed her cheek. She was beaming so wildly. It made your body liquefy into a puddle of emotion. She couldn’t say anything, and that made you smile even more like a big idiot.  
You had left Rogerina speechless.


	4. A Winter's Tale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sad, sad Christmas.
> 
> (TW: Referenced Death/Dying, Alcohol Abuse)
> 
> But also cute lesbians being cute???  
> And Reader being a huge Queen fan so???

_**Christmas, 1982** _

The present was so nicely wrapped you could scarcely believe it. Those few short months you had known Rogerina and...well...KNOWN Rogerina, you knew she was one for extravagant gifts (receiving and giving). Her friends, her mother, her little boyfriends, if it was a gift it had to be beautiful. Of course you had gotten her a gift. You may have been a clueless school girl who never had a relationship before but you were fairly sure it involved Christmas gifts.

You had scraped together allowance and weekend work paychecks for the last couple of weeks, but it still wasn’t enough for something of Rogerina caliber. 

One day after school, you were walking past an antique store, and you saw it. A golden lion with ruby eyes, claws outstretched. It reminded you fondly of the lion on your favorite band’s crest. And of Rog. 

You dashed into the store and took it into your hands. Oh god, 47 quid. You barely had 30. Slowly, dejectedly, you lowered it back down.

“Can I help you miss?” You jumped at the sound of someone else behind you. It was just the storekeeper, a woman of about 50 with crazy hair who thought she was still in the 60’s.

“Oh. Sorry. Sorry.” Your voice retreated back into your throat. The woman tsked and looked at the object in your hand.

“Nothing of it, dear. You’re interested in this, then?”

“I-I was but...I don’t have enough…” You cast your eyes downwards in shame. You felt the hot embarrassment rise to your cheeks and ears, your fingers picking at the fabric of your school uniform. 

“Really? Hmm, who is this for.”

“My gi-” You almost slapped your hand over your mouth. God, how could you be so stupid. You looked out the window in an attempt to look nonchalant. “My friend. She’s a Leo and...and it’s very her.”

“A Leo you say? Come along darling, I’ll give it to you for 20.”

“Really?!” Your eyes lit up as you quickly followed her to the register, pulling the money out of your little clutch. 

“Of course. Merry Christmas.” You nodded violently and took the bag. Behind her you saw a magazine. And you recognized the title.

“Sappho...like the Greek poet?” The woman turned to where you were pointing and smiled broadly. 

“Yeah. From the Isle of Lesbos...you’ve read her?”

“A l-little. I like to read.” 

“Keep reading. A well read woman is a dangerous creature.” She winked at you and you felt your cheeks burning again, so you gave one last thank you and left the store.

It was the last day before Christmas Break, and you and Rog had decided to exchange presents. Your’s was in poorly wrapped newspaper and bright red ribbon. It was the best you could manage, and despite a raised eyebrow from Rogerina she took it eagerly and tore it open. Her shriek could have broken glass.

“OH! Oh it’s perfect! My birthstone and everything! Oh, darling it’s perfect. It’s going right here on my boutique.” She dashed over to her white and pink station and perched it right in view for when she would brush her angelic curls before bed. You couldn’t help but yearn to touch those gold strands, as if they were spun by God himself. Your day dream was quickly dispersed when she handed you a bright red package with a silver bow. “Go on! I want to see your face!” You nodded and opened it, your mouth dropping open into an unbelieving ‘o’.

A leather jacket. Lined to keep you insulated. Black as tar, Your hands grazed it carefully, light to the touch.

“Well go on! Try it on!”

“Rog, I can’t. This is...it’s too perfect.”

“Nonsense! Come on, you need to start breaking it in!” Rogerina was elated as you slipped it onto your shoulders and gave a little tug. It was a little big, just how you liked your clothes. You wondered quietly how she knew.

She patted the empty space next to her on her vanity bench and you sat with her. She would poke and prod your hair to make it just so and slicked it back with some gel.

“Look! You look like a greaser!” You both laughed at the sight. Rogerina looked like she should be wearing roller skates and you should be carrying a pocket knife. You really actually liked how you looked.

“Like Freddie.” The Game, 1980. Home to Another One Bites The Dust with that legendary Deacy bass, Sail Away Sweet Sister, a Brian May classic in your eyes, and the 60’s style Crazy Little Thing Called Love. 

“Who?”

You blushed furiously and picked at your nails.

“Freddie...Mercury. I love Queen...they’re my favorite band.”

“Really? Didn’t they just release a new album? Apparently it’s terrible.” She flipped her hair to one side of her head and you couldn’t make yourself look her in the eyes.

“It’s...funky. I like it. They got this great song called Back Chat that has a great beat. You’d like Body Language. It’s…” You smirked slightly and nudged her “Kinda lewd.” Her head threw itself back in a guffaw.

“Bring it by! I need to listen to it now.” 

“It has David Bowie on it too, who I also adore. He’s so weird I love it.” You felt yourself lighting up with passion, smiling widely. “The song has an amazing riff in it and I’m just positive that the bassist John Deacon came up with it. No one pays him any attention but he’s _AMAZING_. Oh and Palabras De Amor is so tender it makes me want to cry.” You turned and suddenly saw Rogerina staring at you, a strange look in her eye.

“What?”

“Nothing...Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.”

* * *

 

_**Christmas, 1984** _

Your jacket still fit you, the perfect bit of too large for you. It was worn and creased and burned in one place where Rog had accidentally left a cigarette. You were out on the garden porch, drinking a bottle of whiskey by yourself.

The call had come in just a few minutes before hand. Greg was in the hospital with pneumonia. Instead of deal with the pain that your friend was going to die slowly, wasting away until he’d be carted away and his ashes kept hundreds of miles away from his partner by their families, you turned to the bottle and took a hearty swig. You didn’t even move when Rogerina sat down beside you. The air was cold and crisp, making the night sky clear with the moon shining gently above them. She didn’t say anything, just held your arm tightly. 

“Greg?”

You nodded and took another swig. You wanted to resist her when she pulled it away from you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You were just staring ahead into nothingness.

“What do you think heaven’s like?” Rog perked up at the sound of your voice. The winter wind was making it difficult for you to keep your eyes dry. “You know...for us. I can only assume we get a different heaven.”

“I think...it’s half nightclub. One half is dancing and partying and drinking. Everyone is dressed to the nines...the music is always the perfect song…”

“And the other half?”

“It’s full of gardens and waterways and cobblestone paths and nice country estates. And it’s always perfect weather. Warm summer days or cool autumn afternoons, bright winter nights, and those foggy spring mornings.”

“It sounds wonderful...I hope I get there.”

“Of course you will...but not soon baby. Ok? Promise me you’ll be here until we’re both old and gray spinsters who children think are witches.” Your laugh let out a puff of steam and you took Rogerina’s hand and nodded, kissing the cold, bare, pale skin lightly. “Come on. Let’s get inside before you become a popsicle.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, Y/N.”


	5. I Wanna Dance With Somebody

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanna feel the HEEEAT with sombody
> 
> Happy New Year's everyone.  
> To 2019 and 1985.

The music pulsed inside your head. Rogerina, still as popular in the gay and lesbian clubs as she was in school, had managed for them to play Staying Power. Your head bopped idly as she made her way through the throng, dragging you along to act as arm candy and bodyguard if needed. You didn’t really go to parties, but it was New Year’s Eve and Rogerina had told you about a wonderful club called The Hive. Then, in your butchest looking outfit and Rogerina in her most killer look, you both attended the countdown party of the town. Apparently it was super popular, since the line was pretty long when you bypassed it on Rogerina’s arm.   
“Hey! Reggie!” You remembered the boy from your schooldays. Mostly he was Rogerina’s off and on boyfriend who worked for Queen. He had grown up a lot since you last saw him. He had a little bit of a George Michael look about him, and he was standing with a huge bear. Like the dictionary definition, with muscles for days and hair poking out of his Gold’s Gym tank top.   
“Hey, Wallflower!” He patted your back and wrapped an arm around your shoulder. “This is my boyfriend, Jerry.”  
“Nice to meet you!” He shook your hand eagerly.  
“Reggie says your Rogerina’s girlfriend?”  
“Y-yeah. We’re uhm…” You tapped your band with your forefinger nervously, unsure of how to answer. “We’re…”  
“She’s my wife, Reg.” You jumped as Rogerina slid up behind you into the conversation. She was showing off her beautiful ring to Jerry, who was nodding at it in awe.  
“How long have you been together?”  
“Three years,” You said loudly, trying to stay above the thumping music.  
“Wow, that’s great.” You couldn’t help but hear a tension in Jerry’s voice.  
“How long have you known Reggie?” Him and Rog were over by some other people they recognized.   
“We’ve been dating for about a year...He likes me and uh...yeah.” You just nodded in understanding. “He says you like Queen.”  
“They’re my favorite band!”  
“Didn’t they break up, though? Freddie Mercury went and did a solo album.” You felt your mood souring, but it wasn’t Jerry’s fault. You just hated everyone thinking they were going to break up.  
“They’re still together. They just released a new album and everything!” You tried to smile and threw back the whiskey in your hand.   
“Reggie’s says they’re great live. You ever seen them?” You laughed ruefully.  
“No. I was pretty young when I got into them. Now they’re so big I don’t think I’ll ever get to see them.”  
“You never know. If they do, I’ll put a good word in for you to Reggie.”  
“Jerry, you should see her talk about them, you’d think she was straight!” Rog shoved a glass of boozy punch into your hand and leaned on you seductively. “I might need to teach you whose side your on when we get home.” You thanked the lord that the dimly lit room hid your blushing face.  
“Rogerina you were gone for 2 seconds how are you drunk already?”  
She grinned up at you and wrapped her arms around your neck. Her mouth shifted into a playful pout.  
“I’m not drunk! I had two glasses of punch.”  
“And?”  
“Ok and a scotch.”  
“And?”  
“And a gin and tonic but that’s it other than the beer.” You shook your head in disbelief. She was definitely drunk.  
“Come on baby, I gotta take you home.”  
“Oooooh is that a promise, darling? No I wanna stay! It’s not even midnight yet!” She clung to you like a koala bear, digging her heels into the ground. “Let’s stay until midnight, sweetheart please? I won’t drink anymore, please.” She was so adorable when she whined. You sighed and stopped trying to pull her to the door.  
“Alright, midnight then we’re leaving!”  
“Ohhhh, baby thank you. Come on I wanna dance.” You let her drag you into the throng of people, giving a nod to Jerry as she pulled you along. Eventually, the moving throng became more of a single mass moving around you as you watched Rogerina drunkenly dance. You bopped with her, but not to her liking. “Come on! You’re not dancing!”  
“Yes I am,” you laughed.  
“Nuh-uh. You gotta really dance!” You felt confidence, a stranger to you, rise in your chest. Maybe it was the music, maybe it was the heat of the club. Maybe it was the sheer blue of her eyes as she danced. You took her hand and really threw yourself into it. Twisting and turning her into your arms. The rest of the world became a melting scene, leaving her as the only clear image in your eyes. You heard the countdown. They were getting closer to 1985. But you didn’t care. She was looking right into you. Then you kissed her softly, full of love and wanting. Your arms dipped her as the screaming roared around you, signalling a new year in Britain. When you finally broke apart, Rogerina looked so stunned. You had never kissed her in public...not like that.  
“Rog?”  
You didn’t get a second breath in before she was pushing you up against the walls of the club, kissing you like there was no tomorrow. Her soft tongue entered your mouth as she straddled you. Your fingers twisted themselves into her hair, gently pulling her into you. A tap on your shoulder snapped you back to reality. You were snogging Rogerina, in the middle of a crowded club. Reggie looked absolutely tickled pink at the sight of your shocked face.  
“Nice job, baby! I never saw Rog kiss me like that.” Rogerina pulled her lips off of your now marked neck.  
“Fuck off, Reggie.”  
“I’m just saying, she’s must really like her new toy.”  
“Shut up, Reggie,” she snarled. You placed a warning hand on her shoulder. You didn’t want a fight to start 1985.  
“Come on, Rog. Time to go.” You put your arm around her shoulders and started pushing her towards the exit. “Happy New Year, Reggie.”  
The night air hit you like a brick. People were still celebrating the newly arrived year as you walked quickly through the frigid night. Looking down, you noticed Rogerina wiping away angry tears.  
“I don’t care what he said, Rog. Really.”  
“Well I do! Fucking prick.”  
“He was just drunk, Rogerina. Come on, let’s get you home.”  
“Oooooh so you are taking me home.” She licked her lips and playfully bit at you.  
“Rog we live in the same house.”  
“Still. Pretty scandalous. You got really nice tits too. You single?”  
“No. Rog we’re married.”  
“Don’t worry. You can leave this Rog guy and get with me.” She was leaning heavily on you now. You sighed and kissed the top of her head.  
The walk home was thankfully pretty uneventful. You did have to chase after Rogerina after she saw a cat, but other than that you got home safe. She was singing Auld Lang Syne with you up to the door. Once she entered the warm and cozy home, though, she practically fell asleep in your arms, making you drag her into bed.  
First you undressed her and put her in pajamas, then got yourself ready for bed. When you crawled in next to her, she threw her arms around you.  
“Let’s get back to what we were doing.”  
“Rogerina Taylor you are drunk.”  
“And? I don’t need to be sober to think you’re the prettiest girl in the world.” You leaned in, enjoying the feel of her hands running underneath your t-shirt. You resumed tugging gently at her hair, palms cupping her face for you to kiss her more easily. It was silent except for your heavy breathing and the sound of the covers shuffling as you moved.   
You moved your lips to her ear, chewing softly on the soft skin, leaving small kisses on her temple.   
Rog was always more aggressive with you, which you didn’t mind. Tonight she got to work leaving hickeys up and down your neck and shoulder, growling possessively into your skin.  
“Oh dear god, Rog.” She was working at one sensitive part of you, making your body tremble as she kissed it. “Oh yes please.”  
“Say your mine. Say your mine, baby doll.”  
“I’m yours, Rog. Only yours.” Her hands moved to your breasts, gently rubbing your soft buds. You whined at her cold hands. She knew your nipples were sensitive, so she moved slowly, massaging them as her mouth worked on your collar bone. Blood rushed to your face as she nipped playfully and worked your breasts. She began to slow down, muttering something. “You tired baby?” She nodded, suddenly very demure. “You shouldn’t work yourself up so much, darling.” Her hands returned around your waist, snuggling into you.  
“Sh’up.” You smiled and yawned as she fell asleep in your arms, slowly joining her. Not bad for the first few hours of 1985.


	6. From Mars to Mercury

The bacon sizzled with satisfying hisses in the pan as you got breakfast ready for the house. You heard the familiar sound of Brianne’s clock going off and smiled to yourself as you shoveled food onto a plate for the hungry woman. Madame was already seated at the table, drinking her tea with an english muffin.   
“Shoot. I hope Rogerina gets the mail while she’s out.” You carefully balanced the plate with a cup of creamy coffee as you walked to Brianne’s seat, placing it gently down. Rogerina’s seat was empty, save for a plate of bacon and eggs you had put out for her before Madame insist she take out the trash to the curb.  
The back door slammed open, releasing a shivering wind into the room before it slammed shut behind a grumpy and red-faced blonde girl. February was never kind to their little town, and this year was no different.  
“Morning babe.” You gave her a soft little kiss on her frozen cheek and handed her a cup of tea. “You got the mail?”  
“Yeah. Here.” She slammed it down and began taking off her numerous layers over her pajamas.   
“Thank you,” you cooed as you began to filter through the mail. Magazines, junk, bills. “Rog. You got something.” She snatched it eagerly, mood swinging into violent joy as she tore it open. Her eyes scanned the page hungrily before her mouth dropped slightly.  
“Oh my god...darling look!” Madame grimaced as her granddaughter shrieked. “I got the job! I got the bloody job!” The whole house shuddered as she jumped up and down, pushing the letter into your face. “Madame! I got the job! MUM. MUM I GOT THE STYLIST JOB.” She had run into the living room, screaming her head off.  
Happiness filled your chest. Rog had been losing sleep over this job prospect, an entry level stylist at a studio. She had poured over her portfolio for many a night, revising and checking her resume. She had Reggie pull out all the stops with his connections, with a little tooth pulling on her part. But you knew she could get it.   
And that meant one more thing to be excited about. Moving out of Brianne’s house.  
Rogerina raced back into the kitchen, hugging you tightly.  
“We’re moving to London! It’s not Paris but it’s pretty damn close!” Your voice was rising too as you danced with her around the kitchen. You lifted her and spun her around.  
“Rogerina Taylor! Stop screaming like a dying cat for God’s sake!” Brianne entered, curlers in her hair, bunny slippers making that familiar shk-shk sound. She sighed, sitting down at her breakfast. “I guess having Y/N around was never going to be forever.” Rog scowled at her mother.  
“What’s that supposed to mean?”  
“She’s a polite young lady who’s always willing to help clean up, cook, take Mother to her doctor...and you kept Rogerina in line.”  
“Hey!” Rog crossed her arms, slumping in her chair. “This is supposed to be about me, mum!” You smiled bashfully, pecking Rog on her blonde head.  
“I’m so happy for you, Blondie. When do you start?”  
“Two weeks.”  
“Oof. We better start calling around.” You furrowed your brow and racked your brain. Where we they going to get a flat? “We could room with Reggie.”  
“Rogerina’s old boyfriend?” Brianne raised a skeptical eyebrow. Rog busied herself with hiding her face in her hands.  
“We weren’t ever together, mum. Reggie was just a friend from school.”  
“A friend you snogged on the front porch.”  
“Grandma!” You couldn’t help snorting at Rog’s horrified face.   
“Reggie is a nice guy, Madame. He has a boyfriend now.”  
“Ohhhhhhhh. But…”  
“He’s bisexual.”  
“Ahhhhh. Who’s his boyfriend?”  
“His name is Jerry. We met him at the New Year’s Party, remember?” You hit Rogerina’s arm playfully, enjoying her mortification. “He’s super nice.”  
“Can we please return the conversation to me? And how great I am?” You wrapped your arm around Rog’s shoulders, squeezing.  
“You’re absolutely wonderful, baby. I never doubted you. Not for a second.” You checked the clock and muttered to yourself.  
“Damn. I need to get going. Harvey’s gonna kill me if I’m late.” You shoveled the last of your meal into you mouth, hugging Rog one last time before you raced for your coat.  
“Don’t forget your mittens!”  
“I’ll be fine, Brianne!” Grabbing your keys from the bowl by the door, you raced out into the snow.

“No. No I know Jerry. She just got the letter today.” You were on the phone, having rushed back from work as quickly as possible without slipping and breaking your head open. “It would be such a help.”  
“I don’t know, Y/N. I’ll see if anyone around here needs some flatmates.”  
“Ok. Thanks that’ll be wonderful. Thank you so much Jerry.” The line was silent for a few seconds. “Jerry?”  
“Hmm? Oh yeah just...Reggie’s been really weird lately.”  
“Is everything ok?”  
“Yeah he...yeah I don’t know.” Both lines went mute. You couldn’t lie you didn’t like Reggie. But you also liked him too. He was a big mixed bag. “Hold on he’s home. HEY! HEY REG. IT’S ROG’S WIFE.” You blushed faintly. Some back and forth happened before Reggie took the receiver.   
“Hey, Wallflower. Whats up?”  
“You know that job Rogerina wanted? Out in London? She got it. We’re coming down in a week or two. I was wondering if we could stay at your place until we find a flat.”  
“Of course! I have a guest room you guys can use.”  
“How’s things going with Jerry?” He sighed and was silent for a moment.  
“Just...I’ve been really stressed lately.”  
“He’s worried about you. You should talk to him.”  
“Yeah...yeah maybe I will. When do you think you’ll get down here?”  
“Uhhhh, probably the 20th. I’ll call you when we get everything straightened out.”  
“Sounds groovy, babe. Buh-bye.”  
“Thanks, Reg. We really owe you.” You put down the receiver. “Rogerina! Reggie says we can stay with him until we find a flat.” You looked around. You could swear she had been right behind you. “Rog?”  
“Upstairs, darling!” There was that voice. The voice with that tone that made your hair raise in excitement. You raced to her, skipping every other step to your room. She was lying on your bed, reading a magazine, but obviously thinking about something else.  
“Yeah?”  
“So...this weekend is Valentine’s day.” You nodded and sat down beside her. “And...I got you a little something…” She slowly handed you the box she had had on her bedside table, lifting up the top to reveal its content. A bra and panty set, creme and ivory colored with lacy flowers decorating it. Your cheeks blushed as you held the fabric in your hands. Rogerina leaned in close to you. “I would love to see you in this, darling.” Her voice was like honey, only stressing the darling. You nodded, still glowing from the initial shock of the gift. “And...maybe our old school uniform?” You nodded again. Your teeth grazed over your bottom lip as you imagined Rog going at you like when you had first met. “And...I want you to call me ma’am that night...I’m going to be really hard on you, baby.” You closed your eyes, trying not to fidget with this mental image making you damp. “That sound good to you, baby doll?”  
“Mhmm…I’ll be your slave all night long, mama.” She laughed and booped your nose.  
“Even when you’re dirty talking you quote that damn band!”  
“Mama I’m gonna try behave! Mama I’m gonna serve you till your dying day!” Your voice rang out clear and true as you snapped back from your fantasy to your second favorite past-time, annoying Rogerina with your expansive knowledge of Queen lyrics.  
“You were 6 year old when that album came out.”  
“You know the year though. See, I’m rubbing off on you.”  
“What your doing is wearing down my record player. I won’t be able to play any Stevie when we move to London. It’s going to just be Freddie Mercury’s bloody voice 24/7!”  
“Well...they technically all sing songs...except for John.”  
“Why are you a walking trivia book on them anyway?” She turned to look at your, resting her head on her hand. You laid back and stared up at the ceiling.  
“I didn’t have friends, Rog. All I had was Queen. You know Bohemian Rhapsody?”  
“Yeah. Obviously.”  
“It was my first record ever. Sometimes I wish I’d never been born at all.” You sung the words quietly. How many times had you sung those words, and every time they still went straight to your heart. “And then, I would play I’m In Love With My Car over and over again. I think my parents got tired of hearing the same songs over and over, so they got me different albums. Queen II, Night at the Opera, Sheer Heart Attack, anything Queen touched was in my hands as soon as possible. When I ran out of new music, I would hoard magazines and interviews and newspaper articles and posters. I wasn’t lonely because...because I had them.” You felt a tear fall down your face. “Can I tell you something, Rog?”  
“Of course, darling.” She had moved closer to you, gently resting her head on your shoulder.  
“I would talk to them. In my head. When I was really lonely. I would pretend Brian was next to me and I would work through my maths with him. And then on Friday nights, I would pretend Freddie was insisting to dance with me when I put those records on. And when kids bullied me, I imagined Roger in a fuming rage, ready to beat them up and acting like my big brother. And when I read, I pretended John was just sitting next to me. How sad is that! Pretending you’re just sitting quietly next to a rock star.” You couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down your face. All those years hit you like a brick wall. “And on really bad nights, I would pretend we were all hanging out in my room...like how I thought everyone else at school hung out. I would just sit there whispering to myself. Pretending they were my best friends.” You stopped and turned to Rogerina, still crying uncontrollably. “I’m crazy aren’t I?”  
“No, sweetheart. No.” She swallowed you up in a big hug, squeezing you as hard as she could. “I never knew you were so alone. You aren’t anymore, and that’s what matters.” You nodded, clutching her like she’d disappear if you loosened your iron grip on her.  
“I’m sorry if I really do annoy you...they just mean so much to me...I don’t think I’d be here without them. And I shouldn’t just rant at-”  
“Darling, sweetheart. Shut up. You tease me and rant about Queen and tell me every goddamn obscure fact you know. Your entire face lights up when you talk about them. I’ve never seen anything else like it. I never want you to apologize for your passion or love. I complain for the sake of complaining, my dear.” She smiled and gave you a kiss on the cheek. “God knows how many times I’ve talked your ear off, and you never once dismissed what I said as dumb or unimportant. You always listened.” You blushed and flexed your toes in nervous fidgeting.  
“It’s not-”  
“It’s everything to me, darling.” She gave you one last kiss on the lips before you heard Brianne calling you downstairs for dinner. “It really is.”


	7. Las Palabras De Amor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a very smutty chapter. Just a warning.

The skirt was shorter than you remembered it. The soft gray fabric brought back so many memories for you, but you didn’t have time to reminisce. You had been given direct orders by Rogerina to be ready for her when she came home. With Brianne and Madame safely visiting friends in the countryside for the weekend, you were left alone to prepare for your wife. You slipped on the white socks up to your knees and buttoned the dress shirt before taking one last look at you. You couldn’t help but bite your lip at your image. You looked just like you had in school, if only slightly large and with less acne. But it was the same glasses, same face. But you had changed so much since then.  
A throat clearing itself made you turn quickly to see Rogerina. She was leaning against the doorframe, a lustful sparkle shining in her eyes.  
“Hello, kitten. I’m going to need a few minutes to get ready.” She sauntered up behind you, slowly pushing her hand between your legs. “I want you to think of me, baby,” she whispered, guiding your hand downwards. “Get yourself nice and ready for me…” She left you seated at the vanity and you blushing pushed your fingers down your pants, softly rubbing yourself. You moaned as you touched yourself, hand slowly becoming slick with your wetness. “There we are. You can stop and look now, darling.” You turned and gasped at Rogerina. She was wearing a tiny leather skirt, black sheer leggings, and her old school top, and you felt your knees shake a little as she approached you. “Come now, let me have a good look at you dear.”  
“Yes, ma’am.” Her eyes turned fiery as you stood. You slowly turned and showed off the whole outfit to her, biting your lip softly.   
“Oof. You do things to me, kitten.” Rog moved quickly, pinning you against the wall. Her hands slowly crept up your thighs, pushing under the skirt towards your underwear. “You’re so sweet. So shy…” She began to rub you through the thin fabric of the panties with her index finger. “You’re all mine tonight.”  
“Yes, ma’am,” you whimpered as she played with the band of your underwear.   
“I love hearing you whimper, kitten.” She pulled you towards the bed, smiling devilishly. You climbed up and knelt on it, trying to look as innocent as possible for Rog. That made her even hungrier for you. You felt it in the wild look in her eyes, her desiring hands feeling your body in hot wanting.   
She moved behind you, kissing your neck as her hands slowly undid your shirt. The sight of you in her gift made her chuckle.  
“I feel like I’m your sugar mommy. Getting you all these nice things. You’re going to thank me, aren’t you?” You nodded, eyes closed as she traced a finger over the intricate lace.  
“Yes, ma’am.”  
“That’s my girl. Lie down for me, baby.” She quickly tied your wrists to the headboard before moving to your ankles, splaying you open. Your breath quickened as she looked you over, smirking at your pinkened face. “Oh look at you,” she drawled, running her hand up and down your leg softly. “What a pretty little Valentine’s gift I’ve got for myself. You like being helpless?”  
“Yes ma’am,” you sighed, a thick feeling settling in your stomach. Rog climbed over you and began massaging your chest. Slowly, she lowered herself and began to kiss your collarbone, trailing her lips to your chest. She moved the fabric up and began to kiss it, dragging her tongue along your buds, making you groan and pull at your restraints.  
“Oh darling,” she smiled as her thumb began to rub it, causing you to moan. “You’re sensitive there, aren’t you?” You couldn’t speak, you just nodded, trying not to cry from her touch. “Oh but they’re so nice, I can’t help myself.” Rog’s left hand slowly worked the other as she kissed your right beautifully.   
When she got up, you couldn’t help but try and follow her, whimpering as you were held back.  
“Tsk-tsk, darling. Don’t be bad now.” The first sound of the buzzing made you quiver from memories of Rog’s prior work on you with the toy. She straddled your leg, the device firm in her hand. “Now, tell me what you want.”  
“Please, ma’am,” you cried, “Please I want...I want to come ma’am.” You blushed and tried to hide your face in the sheets. Rogerina grinned.  
“You’re so polite. What a good little lady you are.” The first touch made you moan so loudly you swore the neighbors would be able to hear. “I’ve barely touched you, kitten,” she cooed as she rubbed you gently. She held the vibrator to you briefly again, and again you moaned loudly in pleasure, stretching against your bindings.   
“Please, Rog,” you cried when once again she took it away.  
“You want to come so badly, don’t you?” She teased you again, forcing a shaky groan from you, your hips rolling to try and press against the toy more. “I’ve never seen you wanting it so bad before.” You screamed this time, ecstasy coursing through your body like electricity. “Oh no. This won’t do baby doll. While I love hearing you whimper, I can’t let the neighbors know of our playtime.” Your breath racked your chest as she moved away, leaving you on the bed struggling to regain control of your trembling body. “Open up dearie,” she whispered as the familiar taste of her school tie entered your mouth. With a final tug of the knot, she studied her handy work. She only let out a breathy ‘oh god’ before moving back onto you.   
When she returned the toy between your legs, it was on the highest setting, sending you reeling. Every sense was overstimulated, leading to an explosion of heat and muffled moans. You were thankful for the gag, unsure of your ability to keep yourself from screaming from the sheer pleasure that rippled through your body.  
You came, loud and hot, but it didn’t stop. The pulsing kept going, sending you into a new escalation of euphoria. And again, you came and again it didn’t cease. This final expression of bliss ended the rapture. You slumped against the bed, unmoving, breath hoarse and faint. You didn’t think you had ever sweat so much in your life, and you were fairly sure that you had ruined Rogerina’s gift to you.  
You barely felt her undoing your restraints, the world quiet in your head.  
“Baby? You ok?” Your chest was heaving trying to regain your breath, your pulse pounded in your head. “Baby? Oh shit. Did I run you too hard?”  
You shook your head, still splayed out and exhausted.  
“Holy fuck,” you finally manage to whisper. Rogerina grinned and kissed your head.  
“Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.” To your surprise, Rog picked you up in her arms. You had never her done so much manual labor in her life, even if it was carrying her weary wife to the bathroom only a few feet away. She ran a warm bath with you practically falling asleep in the water. Eventually, she got you clean and toweled you off before dressing you in your comfiest pajamas. She grunted as she lowered your half-asleep body onto the bed.  
Her body curled up next to yours. She had put on her bright pink fuzzy pajamas, the ones you had gotten her for Christmas. You smiled and held a shaky arm out to pull her close. Rog rolled her eyes and edged closer to you, snuggling into the crook of your neck with your arms around her neck.  
You sighed and fell asleep.


	8. Lord, What You're Doing to Me

You had begun packing as soon as possible. Despite living with Rogerina for a year, you had failed to accumulate much more than your original belongings. It always felt off, like it wasn’t really your house to add things too. Even in your bedroom, you only had a little corner for your books and records, the rest of the room consumed by Rog’s possessions. 

Of course, your wife on the other hand, was a different story. She would mull over her closet for hours, tossing what you saw as perfectly good clothes to the side for donation and packing the scant few she saw as absolutely necessary for life in London. Your clothes had already been packed into their box, the remaining being taken with you in a suitcase.

“What do you think, darling?” You looked up at Rogerina who was examining her dark gray pant suit.

“It’s good.”

“No it isn’t, but I need something professional.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Everything, darling! It’s all faded, but I haven’t got any suitable clothes for London other than this!” You shook your head and turned back to carefully wrapping your albums in bubble wrap and packing them into an old suitcase you had bought at a second-hand store. It was damn near indestructible, perfect for carrying your most treasured items. “You’re absolutely useless when it comes to clothes darling.” You smiled and patted your trusty denim overalls.

“I’ve got what I need, Rogerina.”

“I should give you a makeover when we get to London.”

“Absolutely not, Rog. No way.” You shut the suitcase and snapped the clasps close and gave it a testing tug. Locked shut. It joined the record player’s box by the door and you gave the room a once over. “That’s it for me...I should get calling around, see if we can find a moving truck cheap enough to get us to London.”

“About that…” Rog grinned ear to ear as she dragged you towards the door. “Ok, close your eyes and we’re outside and we’re walking and...surprise!” You opened your eyes.

“What the hell is that?” You technically knew what it was. A 1964 Morris Mini Cooper, painted a sickly mint green and looking like it was going to fall apart if you blew on it wrong.

“It’s our new car!” Rogerina looked so pleased with herself, you just knew she had gotten it herself.

“What a hunk of junk, Rog! Why didn’t you talk to me about this first?” Her smile dampened a little. That made your stomach turn with regret. “I’m sorry Rog...I just get uptight about these kind of things. How much did this even cost you?” You began examining it closely. On further inspection, it wasn’t that terrible.

“1,500 £.”

“Where the hell did you get that much money?” She blushed and looked down at her shoes.

“I saved some...I know you wouldn’t notice if I started buying cheaper makeup...and when I said I was going shopping? I got a part time job…”

“Wha- Rogerina why didn’t you tell me!? Working two jobs?” You pulled her into a tight hug, burying your face into her shoulder. “You didn’t need to do that…”

“I know I just wanted to show...well...You were taking care of everything else I didn’t want you worrying about this too.” You pulled back, suddenly very aware you were in public, and walked back inside the house where you proceeded to hug and kiss Rogerina like it was the end of days. “Babe...baby you’re crushing me…”

“I’m sorry I was ungrateful...I shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth and you worked so hard for it I’m so so sorry honey.”

“Babe...Babe it’s ok.” She finally pulled out of your arms and noticed you were crying. “Oh, darling.”

“Oh...oh sorry…” You turned away and started wiping your eyes, cursing yourself for acting like a big baby. Rogerina guided your face back to her and planted the softest of kisses on your lips. “Sorry…”

“You say sorry too much.” You sat back on the couch with a thunk as she pushed into you. She climbed onto your lap, straddling your thighs and began to kiss you more deeply. You gasped, and felt her smile against you. “You still get so surprised when I kiss you.”

“Why wouldn’t I,” you muttered between breaths.

“I should punish you for being so ungrateful, but I just can’t help myself.”

“Sorry...Sorry...Sorry,” you muffled against her lips. Her hands tangled themselves in your hair, steadying her as she pressed harder and harder into you. Timidly, you rose your hands to her thighs to brace yourself. Rogerina smiled and cupped your face, pausing for a second. “D-did I do something wrong?” She shook her head and dragged her thumb down your lips.

“We’re gonna be alone all the time...how will I ever keep myself from fucking you constantly?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there, maybe.” 


	9. You Make Me Live

Your farewell from the Taylor household was more than a little tearful. Brianne was fussing over how much you were forcing into the back of the coop, Madame grimacing with her arms folded.

“Well I’ll guess I’ll die then.”

“Mother!”

“That girl is the best thing to happen to this household and now Rogerina’s taking her to London where she’s going to get addicted to drugs.”

“Madame, I’m not going to get hooked on drugs.” You leaned over and planted a kiss on her cheek. “Thank you so much for everything,” you muttered as you pulled her into a bear hug. She gave you an awkward pat on the shoulder.

“Nothing of it darling.” I moved over to Brianne and gave her the same treatment.

“Thank you so much for sharing your home with me.”

“You’ll have to visit for the holidays.”

“Of course.”

“Take care of yourself in the big city…”

“I will...for both of us.”

Now, as you drove along the busy motorways toward the city, car stuffed to the brim with boxes, you mulled over the past few days. 

You had called your old house, told whoever was taking the message you were heading to London. You had promised yourself you wouldn’t call back once you left for London.

“Hey baby.”

“Hmm?”

“Guess what’s in London.”

“Everything?”

“No. Well...kind of…”

“Ok, spill it Rog.”

“Garden Lodge.” You had to stop yourself from slamming on the breaks. Swallowing hard, you glanced over at Rogerina. She had that mischievous look in her beautiful blue eyes. “We could...you know...swing by.”

“No. No way. I am not...no. I am not being that rabid fan that stalks their favorite band. That’s his private home, Rog. We can’t just go ogle at it like...like..crazy people.”

“Oof. Forget morals and ethics, babe. You’re an absolute philosopher sometimes. It won’t hurt anyone to just look at the house. If anyone asks, we’re just admiring the architecture.”

“Yeah, we’re ‘just admiring the architecture’ of one of the greatest musician’s house.”

“I know you want to check it out…”

“Yeah, I want to. I’m not going to, but yeah I want to see his house.”

“You might see him.”

“See now I’m really not going. I’d be a mess! I cry over their magazine pictures! Could you imagine me  _ meeting _ one of them? Meeting  _ Freddie _ ? No. Nuh uh. No way in hell.”

* * *

 

This was so dumb. 

“Rogerina this is so dumb no, I’m not getting out of the car.” She rolled her eyes as she unbuckled her seat belt.

“I mean I’m gonna go look. Maybe I’ll scale the wall.”

“WHAT? No. Fuck!” You fumbled with your belt as she started strutting down the road. “Rogerina Taylor, get back here! Oh fucking hell.” Practically falling out of the car, you ran after your wife to make sure she didn’t get you both in trouble within the first couple of hours of arriving in London. “Rog! Come on, let’s just get to Reggie’s flat.”

“No! I wanna see. Besides, look. You’re in front of Garden Lodge.”

“Ohhhhhh noooo.” You were. That was the gate. Was he there? Oh god what if he was home? This would be the closest you had ever been to Freddie Mercury. Oh please don’t be home. Your knees started to shake. “Th-th-that’s his house.”

“Yeah.” Rogerina moved behind you and gripped your shoulders. “Wanna say hello?”

“Absolutely not! Rog come on someone’s going to call the cops on us for loitering or tax evasion or something.” She pouted and let you walk her back to the car, hand in hand. “Thank you though.”

“I love how easily you blush darling, but you’re an absolute nervous wreck! You can’t let fear stop you from living your life.”

“I mean I can but that’s why I have you.”

“I guess so,” she laughed.


	10. Can Barely Stand on My Feet

When Rogerina had told you, you thought she was kidding, or pulling a prank on you.

“Really, Rog. Can you not joke about that with me while I’m holding a searing pan?” You were frying some onions with sausage and some Polish cabbage thing you got from the nice lady that lived downstairs. It smelled pretty good. You tossed the towel idly over your shoulder and pushed the meal around with a wooden spoon. When she didn’t say anything, you sighed and turned. Her face was pulled into a wide grin.

“It’s not a joke.”

“Rog. You aren’t seriously telling me that you have tickets to Live Aid.”

“No. I don’t.”

“Ok. Then I don’t know what your trying to pull on me.” You turned back to your cooking.

“I got us backstage passes.” You stopped, stock still. “I’m not pulling one on you, baby.” Your hand turned down the radio that was currently blasting the Beach Boys in your ear.

“Rog? You’re serious?” She nodded, grinning somehow getting even wider. “OH MY GOD,” you screamed. “HOW THE HELL YOU FUCKING BEAUTIFUL WOMAN IF WE WEREN’T ALREADY I WOULD MARRY YOU RIGHT HERE AND NOW.” You swooped her up into your arms and spun her around your tiny London flat. She laughed and begged to be put down, which you did in a gentlewomanly manner.

“Reggie gave me a backstage pass to help him with styling, and he smuggled one for you too. I couldn’t leave you behind, darling.”

“You know what this means Rog? I’m gonna see Queen!”

“It means you’re gonna meet Queen.” Your face paled. Seeing Queen was one thing. Meeting them was a whole different game. “Baby this is your dream!”

You stumbled back into your chair. This wasn’t happening. You were in a coma, a fever dream. This didn’t happen to people like you. Rogerina hurried to take the pan off the heat as you slowly whirled into a panic. 

“Baby...baby don’t panic. Oh shit I’m sorry. Shit shit shit. Here.” She put a glass into your shaky hands and began hurriedly wrapping ice cubes in a dish towel. “Oh shit I’m sorry. Ah Christ.” She pressed it to the back of your neck as you slowly got control of your breathing.

“S-s-sorry Rog,” you whispered as you took a small sip of water.

“No, no it’s ok. I didn’t mean to freak you out.”

“I just...they’re my idols, Rog. What if I fuck it all up?” She squeezed your hand and kissed your sweaty forehead.

“You won’t. I’ll be with you the entire time. I’ll keep a cool head for you.” She grinned and put the towel on your forehead playfully. “Because someone in this house has too.” That made you laugh, which made all the difference to Rogerina.

* * *

 

Despite it being a blistering day, you had worn your leather jacket, half for the cold night time that would descend on Wembley, half as a security blanket. Underneath, a red t-shirt and your overall shorts and your ratty black sneakers. 

Rogerina was beautiful as always. Bubblegum colored sunglasses sat on top of her golden head. She wore a dark pink shirt and very short short-shorts. Her canary yellow bag matched her sunshine boots. If pink lemonade was a person it would be Rog. 

Behind the scenes was the hustle and bustle of getting the huge show ready. You could scarcely believe the amount of equipment they had. People balancing on rafters, sound technicians making final checks. You had arrived at Wembley at 10:00. Despite Rog’s best efforts to try and get you to go later, you refused, preferring to see the entire set up and execution. 

The first few hours were interesting, fun to see the coming and goings. Rog was busy with Reggie, so you spent your time with Jerry. He was pleasant, but you both seemed to be quiet people, so you watched the acts with keen interest. You both bolted out Roxanne and Sunday Bloody Sunday, taking immense pleasure in the audience and the performers.

Around 6 p.m., Rog sneaked you both out to the side of the stage.

“Rog. Seriously what is it?” Dire Straits was finishing up Sultans of Swing.

“I need to get you the best spot.” She dragged you to where she wanted you, and you both held your breath.

Then it happened.

And it was wonderful.

It was the most magical twenty minutes of your life. They were right there, living and breathing with bodies made of flesh and bone but somehow making music worthy of the gods. Radio Ga Ga had barely finished and you thought you were going to cry. And then Freddie Mercury stood in front of thousands of people.

“AY-OH.”

“AY-OH.” The entire stadium screamed back, including you and Rog. You couldn’t believe it. You were there. Right there. Freddie was vocalizing with you. You had only dreamed of being a part of his audience and now you were there.

“AYYY-OH.”

“AYYY-OH.” You grabbed Rogerina’s arm to steady yourself as you both belted back at him.

“De-doh.”

“De-doh!”

“Alright!” 

“ALRIGHT!” You barely had time to catch your breath before they began to play Hammer to Fall. You had tears streaming down your face. This was Heaven, in its purest form.

* * *

 

Rog was hugging you so tightly after they finished their set, but you didn’t care. Your body was so hyped up you felt courage rise within you, letting Rogerina take you towards their trailer. That confidence slowly vanished and you halted, brushing the tears from your eyes.

“Rogerina, I can’t do it.”

“Baby...you won’t even have to talk...You deserve this, ok?” You swallowed hard, realizing how dry your mouth was. The sweat slickened your forehead to a sheen and you felt like your body was boiling. They were right there, 20 feet, 10 feet, 5 feet. Your vision began to blur. “Excuse me! Mr. Mercury!” He turned and looked at you, and you fell to the ground.


	11. Spread Your Wings and Fly Away

“Rog...Rog…” You were mumbling incoherently. Someone was resting a cold towel on your head.

“What does she want me for?”

“I don’t know! Poor thing must have collapsed from dehydration. Go on, just sit with her!”

“Ok ok...er...hello...dear?” The voice was so familiar.

“Rog?”

“Oop, she’s coming back to us. I’ll grab her a water.”

Your eyes felt like lead, and it took all your energy to slowly blink awake. You smiled when you saw her deep blue eyes for a moment.

“Oh god, Rog…” Your vision widened. “AHHH!” You screamed like you had never screamed before in your entire life. It wasn’t Rog. Or it was. It was Rog as a guy! Your entire life felt like a lie. Had she always been a man? Did you wake up from a coma where you dreamed she was a she?

“Roger what did you do?!”

“I don’t know!” Your head snapped to the side and you saw curly hair you knew far to well. Brian was running to your side, a water bottle clutched in each hand. Turning back to your supposed wife, you suddenly recognized him too.

“Y-y-y-y-your’re…” Your heart began beating fast again and your vision blurred.

“Oh god she’s going down again.” Roger grabbed your shoulders as you began to fall backwards.

“Let me through you obnoxious musicians! Where is she?! I heard her screaming.” You were brought back from the dead by the voice of your beloved wife as she stormed into the trailer, holding an ice pack in a towel. “Baby! Baby are you alright I’m so sorry I left you. I got so scared and they sent me for ice.” She pushed the pack frantically against your neck. You only grinned and pressed your forehead against hers.

“Rogerina...oh fuck Rog I thought you were a guy,” you muttered, burying your face in her familiar sense.

“Ohhhhhh. That makes a lot more sense. Roger...Roger she looks just like you.”

“I noticed you daft idiot!” You pulled back and looked at the two. They were glaring at each other...they were the drummer and guitarist of Queen.

“Oh my god…”

“Err, hi sorry we misunderstood. You were asking for Rog and err...I’m…”

“Roger Taylor,” you said, voice shaking horribly. You pointed at the other man. “And you’re...you’re Brian May.”

“Are you alright miss? You collapsed and gave us all an awful scare.” You nodded dumbly. Oh god was he always this sweet and gentlemanly?

“Brian! Is she awake? Is she ok?” A curly haired, soft spoken man climbed into the trailer followed by a darker haired man with a moustache.

Your heart stopped entirely, if it had even been able to beat before. 

“Oh my god, Rog please tell me I’m dead,” you whispered as John Deacon and Freddie Mercury entered.

“You’re not dead. I’d kill you if you were,” she giggled, kissing your forehead gently. She glanced behind her. “Oh you mean them. Ok, yeah I should have guessed that too.” She pulled the balled up leather jack from behind you and smoothed it out. “She’s a huge fan. I think she got too excited.” Oh god. Rog was talking to them.

“What are you doing,” you hissed as the band members took a seat across from them. She waved you off to die from mortification. 

“Really?” Brian’s eyebrow lifted into a perfect arch.

“Oh yeah. Big time. She never stops playing your bloody records...can I borrow one?” She pointed at the pack of cigarettes Roger was holding and plucked one from the box. He lit it for her, still knocked back at how much she resembled him. “Thanks, mate.”

“You uh...look just like…” Rogerina glanced over at Brian.

“Yeah I know. I get it a lot. Last name doesn’t help either.” She took a long drag.

“You mean,” John asked, squinting at her.

“My name is Rogerina Taylor.”

“Holy fucking shit.” Freddie covered his gaping mouth in awe. Roger looked like he was going to have a stroke. “And...uhh...how old are you, Rogerina?”

“Too old to be his daughter so calm the fuck down. Taylor is my mom’s name. My dad was an asshole.” You wanted to die. How could she be so calm when they were right there? “Anyways this wasn’t supposed to be a family reunion. She’s the one that wanted to meet you.” All their eyes turned to you, and you felt color drain from your body.

“H-Hi…I’m Y/N…I’m so sorry about what happened I really didn’t mean to faint and I’m so sorry for screaming in your face, Mr. Taylor.”

“It’s uh...no problem...how long have you been listening to us?”

“Since 1975...Bohemian Rhapsody was my first record and I’ve...I’ve been hooked ever since.” You blushed as you wrung your hands together. 

“Well, we have a real fan here don’t we?” John smiled that smile you had seen on tv and it made you want to hide your face. 

“Trust me, she knows just about everything about you.” You swung your head to Rogerina, who was smoking lazily on the couch, as if you were visiting with some acquaintances but she had somewhere she’d rather be.

“I really don’t…”

“What’re your favorite songs?” You turned to the soft voice. Freddie was smiling a wide smile, one that made you suddenly feel very comfortable.

“My favorite written by you is Killer Queen, then my favorite written by Mr. May is ‘39, then Mr. Deacon is You’re My Best Friend...and I’m In Love With My Car by Mr. Taylor…” They looked at you for a second before Freddie broke the silence with a laugh.

“No need for the Misters, darling. Also, did you hear that, Rog?”

“Oh my good god that was 10 years ago, Fred.”

“I’m glad someone liked his car song,” John mused. You couldn’t help but smile.

“Did you like our show?” Brian was seated now in a wicker chair next to the couch Freddie and John had planted themselves in.

“Oh my god it was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life you were all so amazing I couldn’t believe my eyes or my ears I-” You stopped and blushed so hard you thought your face would melt. “Sorry...I just...you’re music means so much to me. Thank you so much...I’m so happy I got to see you perform.”

“This was your first show,” Roger asked, almost incredulous. You nodded.

“My first concert ever…” Freddie beamed.

“I’m glad we could make it special for you, darling.” 

“See. I told you, they’re just people, baby.” Rogerina had taken your hand and given you a small peck on the cheek. Your smile disappeared and you suddenly pulled away from her, not able to meet any of their eyes. What was she thinking? You don’t know how they’d react. Oh god what if they threw you out? You blinked tears away as the trailer grew deathly quiet. Rogerina also seemed to notice her apparent mistake and withdrew.

“I...I should be leaving…” You felt tears welling up in your eyes. Please, you prayed, please don’t yell at me. Don’t shatter this one thing I have.

“Nonsense! You just fainted at our feet,” Roger said suddenly, breaking the icy tension. “You and your girlfriend can stay as long as you need. Right guys?” The others nodded, but Freddie was staring so intensely at you you thought he would witness your soul.

“Could you give me and Y/N some privacy?” The band glanced each others way before they began to shuffle out. Rogerina stalled, unsure of leaving you alone when you were clearly distressed, but you gave her a short nod of encouragement and she exited as well. After the door closed he moved forward and bundled you up into a big hug. “It’s ok, darling...you don’t have to be afraid around us…” You finally let yourself cry. “Hey...Hey it’s ok…” He hugged you even tighter and brushed the tears off your cheek. “How long have you two been together?”

“3 years...4 this fall.” He smiled at you again and sat next to you, finally noticing the ring on your finger. “Oh...yeah...I proposed to her last November…”

“It’s beautiful, darling!”

“Rogerina’s is prettier…” you smiled through your stuffy nose and swollen eyes. He seemed like the most wonderful person to just sit next to and talk to. “Do...do you have…”

“Mhmm...his name is Jim. He’s…he’s wonderful…” That bright smile came back again, and you couldn’t help but hug him again

“Thank you...Freddie Mercury.”

“You’re more than welcome, darling.”


	12. How Much It Means To Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: death mentioned a lot

November 1991

You had run from the house, despite Rogerina shouting after you. Kensington seemed a million miles away from your flat, but you got there eventually. 

You weren’t the only one there. A whole crowd of people were amassed outside of his home, all grieving, playing his songs.

You sat down on a set of stairs, not caring about the freezing rain that was chilling you to the bone. You were slightly glad for it, because only you knew the difference between your hot tears and the cold rain drops.

When Rogerina found you, you were still on those steps, still staring at the house.

“It’s not fair,” you whispered as she sat next to you, shielding you from the rain with her umbrella. She wrapped you in your leather jack and hugged you, not saying a word. “It’s not fair...not him...not Greg...Not Lennie, and Not Kevin or Andrew or Steve or Toby...not Reggie…” She held you tighter as you stared at the house. “It’s not fair…”

“I know darling…”

“Why...they weren’t bad people. They didn’t deserve this...oh god Rog…” You hugged her tighter. “I don’t want to be here anymore, Rogerina. I don’t want to be anywhere anymore.”

“I don’t care where you are as long as you’re with me...ok baby?” You nodded, holding her tighter than you ever thought you would. “It’s going to be ok. We’re going to be ok.”

* * *

 

Christmas 1991

With money you had saved and a portion of Rogerina’s inheritance given early, you had bought a house in the Scottish countryside, nearer to Roger’s grave so that Madame, in her failing health, could visit and make preparations more easily. 

“Grandma you’re not dying.”

“That’s what you say, child,” the older woman grumbled as she flicked the newspaper. When she thought you weren’t looking she poured whiskey into her coffee from her flask she hid in her fox stole. You kissed the top of her head and handed Brianne her tea. She had begun dating again. This time a man named Peter, who was kind and jolly and thought that you and Rogerina were “the prettiest pair he ever set eyes on”. He liked that you could drink and that Rogerina would tell him what Brianne would like. 

Fredericka sent you a Christmas card detailing her new fling, a bank mogul from Sweden who had fallen madly in love with her and whisked the both of them away to Portugal. Oh and there was something casually mentioned about her also sleeping with his wife.

But, as Rogerina and Peter put up the Christmas decorations in the other room, you slowly moved outside. It was cold and the grass was frozen stiff, making it crunch under your feet as you walked to the fence facing the wild moor that bordered your property. You wrapped your coat more tightly around your body as you gazed across the landscape.

“You’ve broken my heart and now you leave me,” you whispered, a tear running down your frozen cheek. “Bring it back...bring it back...don’t take...don’t take it away…” You shut your eyes, trying to will the sorrow to remain inside. It was Christmas after all.

“Darling?” Rogerina put her arms around you, resting her head on your shoulder. “It’s ok to cry.”

“I know Rog,” you whispered, grasping her hand resting on your shoulder. “I know.”

“No one can take their music from you, baby.” You shut your eyes, heart aching. You hadn’t even unpacked your albums from their box. The day he died, you had thrown them all in a suitcase and locked it.

“I can’t listen to it...I never want to listen to it again.”

“Don’t say that, honey.” She turned you around, guiding your eyes to her gaze. The wind whipped her blonde hair like a magical creature had come to you from the heather. “When I grow older I will be there at your side to remind you how I still love you,” she sang, blushing at her voice cracking. “He’ll always be with you in the music, dearest.” She leaned forward and kissed you softly, holding your hands in hers. “And I’ll will always be with you…” Rogerina gingerly put her hand over your heart, pressing her head to yours. “I promise.” You closed your eyes and felt your heart lift for the first time in a month. 

“I know,” you whispered, “I will too.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I promise."


End file.
